


Like, Figuratively

by sugarby



Category: Promare (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, First Meetings, Gen, Ice Skating, M/M, figure skater lio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:07:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22174531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sugarby/pseuds/sugarby
Summary: It's pulling him in. It's beautiful, a kind no word has been created yet to do enough justice. Ethereal. Magnetic. Dream-like. The skater's hair is a fluffy pastel green tied up in a bun with loose strands framing the sides of his face, clad in an all black outfit of leggings, a hoodie and skates.Their eyes meet across the rink and there's a silence; a noiseless passing of time that Galo is too spellbound to track.Galo doesn't know a lot of things, like how long he's stood watching or if there truly is an almighty overseer above blessing him in this moment, but there on the ice is a literal angel lighting a fire within.(OR figure skater Lio lights a fire within the new ice rink medic Galo).
Relationships: Gueira/Meis (Promare), Kray Foresight & Lio Fotia, Lio Fotia & Gueira & Meis, Lio Fotia & Thyma, Lio Fotia/Galo Thymos
Comments: 24
Kudos: 188





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My experience of ice skating goes as far as four trips in a lifetime to an ice rink and several series/films about it. Netflix's _Spinning Out_ is what inspired me to go through with writing this despite all that. I don't have the time to post it all in one so here's the first chapter, enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's pulling him in. It's beautiful, a kind no word has been created yet to do enough justice. Ethereal. Magnetic. Dream-like. The skater's hair is a fluffy pastel green tied up in a bun with loose strands framing the sides of his face, clad in an all black outfit of leggings, a hoodie and skates.
> 
> The skater finishes with self embrace and their head angled upward.
> 
> Galo doesn't applaud but he reckons that maybe his increased heartbeats are enough.
> 
> Their eyes meet across the rink and there's a silence; a noiseless passing of time that Galo is too spellbound to track.

One of the four seasons from Antonio Vivaldi dramatically takes over the entire arena for a lone skater in the centre of the ice rink.

  
It's the carving of ice, blade cleanly paving lines across and around, that catches Galo's attention. It becomes ambience for the whole chill and quietness of the arena. Ice glistens and sprays softly in response to the intricate steps being weaved along.

  
Sunlight through the large windows hung from the height of the domed arena places a spotlight over him and a gleam across his skates, a figurative stream of stars in his wake.

  
The skater glides around the rink with their arms pulled back. A glance behind over his shoulder before he vaults up, spins against and lands with a clean clap against the ice and a leg out in a clockwise wind.

  
One, two, three...? No, _four_. Galo recounts on his fingers and still gets four. That's actually insane!

  
Galo's eyes follow the skater and his fancy footwork, boots weaving in and out nicely as he glides backwards near the surrounding wall. Coming out of a corner to push into a long stretch round it, he lowers himself into a crouch, _spinning_ and _spinning_ , like a turtle shell; he raises himself, arching back while lifting a leg up and curling it behind, spinning in that same fierce momentum.

  
He does another set of quadruple spins and an axel. Legs weave again and he leads into a great roundhouse kick.

  
It's...insane. Fucking crazy but in the good way!

  
Galo doesn't know a lot of things, like how long he's stood watching or if there truly is an almighty overseer above blessing him in this moment, but there on the ice is a literal angel lighting a fire within.  
  


Galo exhales.

  
It's pulling him in. It's beautiful, a kind no word has been created yet to do enough justice. Ethereal. Magnetic. Dream-like. The skater's hair is a fluffy pastel green tied up in a bun with loose strands framing the sides of his face, clad in an all black outfit of leggings, a hoodie and skates.

  
The skater finishes with self embrace and their head angled upward.

  
Galo doesn't applaud but he reckons that maybe his increased heartbeats are enough.

  
Their eyes meet across the rink and there's a silence; a noiseless passing of time that Galo is too spellbound to track.

  
Too late he realises the skater is much closer; close enough for the steam passing through his lips to be caught _—_ really the only evidence disproving the theory that he transcends above human.

  
Galo says, "That _—"_

  
Interrupting is heavy pounding against the reinforced windows of the viewing and waiting room behind them. Kray is holding an unimpressed look and a whiteboard with the time marked in digital format: 7:10am. 

  
“Motherfucker!”

  
Galo double-takes, not expecting such venom from an angel. He watches the skater stalk off the ice on his blades, like he’s stormed off in them many times and perfected it.

∆ ∆ ∆

One would think that the owner of Promepolis City's esteemed ice arena would be too busy to chase after insubordinate clients. That should be the case; he has far too many events to cut ribbons for, endless hands to shake and smiles to put on to ensure the arena stays afloat on supporting contributes, and students to help guide.

  
And simply put, he can't be bothered most days to pull Lio Fotia out every time he goes over his allotted time on the ice. 

  
Kray awaits the expected tantrum from behind the counter desk of the waiting lobby, speaking as soon as the vexed skater emerges, "You went over by ten minutes, Lio. It's your own fault."

  
"I wanted to get in a couple more technical turns."

  
"You're practising?"

  
" _No_ , I like getting up before the sun _just because_."  
  


Kray lets the snark go with a hum, "Well then. Is it for sectionals?"

  
Lio's glare falters just so, "No."

  
"Then you _don't need_ the practice and you _certainly don't need_ to incorporate technical moves into a routine you just do for _fun_."

  
"Bite me." Lio goes over to the chilled, glass door of drinks across the room and grabs bottled water from inside.

  
"Your turns are too fast and you occasionally lead into them prematurely."

  
Lio gives him a tired look.

  
"You said you were practising technical turns, so I'm giving appropriate feedback."

  
"Except I never asked."

  
"It'll disorient and tire you out, which can lead to irreparable damage, for this arena's legacy if not your own wellbeing."

 _  
'No',_ Lio snorts, ' _it'll keep me from looking up at the audience.'_ Faster turns mean a hazier view of the audience, of everything, which means he likely won't see the empty seats for his parents.

  
The long term use of this tactic has ironically made his quick turns his specialty.

  
"Your precious legacy will be fine. I haven't fallen on my ass."

  
"Yet."

  
" _Look_ ," Lio closes the fridge door, uncaps his bottle, "I skate _when I_ want to, _how I_ want to. I'm not in the market for medals, ribbons or _you_ trying to control me." He chugs the bottle back for a much needed hydration break from both skating and Kray.

  
"Very well but if you aren't pursuing a serious ambition then I can no longer offer you the privilege of skating at my arena."

  
"You're having a laugh."

  
"My arena is for _athletes_ , not children who see Disney's Frozen and want to live out the fantasy of being like Elsa. Consider an alternative location, Lio Fotia." Kray moves papers on his desk around to find and pick up a flyer for another arena in the city, not as flashy or big. "Freeze Force will be opening shortly. Why not give them a call?"

  
“What the fuck, Kray?! I’ve been skating here _literally_ since I could stand on the ice!"

  
It doesn't sound ideal now but he was a kid and everything looked shiny and promising and the owner at least pretended he was decent.

  
Kray greeted him and his parents with that rehearsed smile of his and a glowing charm that made people feel they could trust in and rely on him.

  
His arena stands as the best in Promepolis with the latest and fanciest equipment and professional choreographers and coaches called in from across the world. That enticed Lio once upon a time; the fact it no longer does, that coach's lining up to take him on are turned down every time, infuriates Kray to no end and they argue. Several years on, Lio's mastered all the skating classes at twenty-something and he and Kray have little to no time to pretend they're on the best of terms with each other.

  
It's like Lio's an open flame that wants to be free to be wild in any shape and Kray's a large cage trying to decide where and how he can burn.

  
"You're a talented skater." Kray says sincerely, "But so long as you refuse to compete, that's all you'll be. _Talented_." Not phenomenal. Soul touching. Amazing. Unrivalled. Nation's favourite. A _champion_. "I can help you rise to your true potential. Just cooperate."

  
"Shove it, Foresight."

  
"You're more than capable of making it to Nationals easy, yet you waste _—_ "

  
"Thanks but he said no."  
  


Lio's shoulders deflate in relief and the irritation calms somewhat. Like a Godsend, his saviour of a best friend and his boyfriend are coming in at the right time. They're as cozy as ever with their arms around each other's lower waists like the lovely pair they are _—_ the arena's best actually _.  
  
_

Kray's smart enough to know he doesn't stand a chance of insisting any more right now. He excuses himself with a sigh and leaves, mentioning he'll be checking on the other skaters.

  
"Thanks, Meis."

  
Meis waves dismissively, " _Please_. Anyway, morning, Boss."  
  


Gueira adds, "S'up, Boss!"

  
"I skate to a Fifth Harmony song _once_ as a joke and you guys never let me forget it."

  
"It was epic so fuck you." Gueira defends without remorse. No one could've ever predicted a young skater would choose a pop song like that for their first official performance; paired with the usual seriousness Lio presents, it was a display that, as great as it was, had Gueira holding his stomach in the audience from hard laughter.

  
Meis slaps him as a light scolding but even he's smiling, "Your enthusiastic ass shaking clearly worked in your favour and got you those top scores."

  
"Right, I'm calling child helpline."

  
"Ungrateful brat." Meis flicks Lio's forehead and kisses the area right after. In the lean forward, glancing over Lio's shoulders, he asks, "Who's that?

  
Lio looks back; it's the guy who was watching him earlier. "Don't know. He was watching me skate."

  
"Watching you? Like, in a creepy, perverse way?"

  
"No. Just watching." Lio sees him go over to Kray and start talking excitedly. Even smiling. He's obviously still under the charming spell, ugh. "But he seems tight with Foreshit so it doesn't matter how hot he is."

  
"I didn't say he was hot."

  
"You were thinking it, though. I know you." At least to keep Meis from harping on, Lio takes a good look at the guy.

  
Blue hair in a wild, half mohawk. Big chest. Muscles putting pressure on his shirt, creases stretching. He obviously has to work out, every skater does. The muscles aren't too much but he definitely could lift Lio without a problem. He could lift him for _plenty_ of reasons.

  
"Fine, he's hot." Meis shamelessly admits.

  
"Your boyfriend is _right there_."

  
"He's hot." Gueira copies, grinning.

  
" _Okay_ , he's easy on the eyes." Lio's eyes roll, "I'm invested in my skating and the only chance we'll have of talking is if I sprain or break something."

  
"You just might with how often you're practicing. We're worried, kiddo." Gueira pats his head, "How was practice? Still crushing those triple axels?"

  
"Yes."

  
"Keeping your leg up straight?”

  
"Yes."

  
"Gonna do sectionals?"

  
"Ye _—_ " Lio stops. Gueira laughs and Meis smiles behind a hand. "That was _mean_."

  
"Kray's an asshole," Meis says, "But he knows you're good, Lio. Look, we gotta practice but we'll talk about this later."

  
"Here." Lio pulls out his hair tie and hands it over. "Have a good one." He leans into the soft cheek kiss and watches the two of them leave for the ice, hand in hand, with fondness.

  
It must be real nice for them. They'll always be there for each other.

  
If Lio isn't already wallowing, he puts himself through it by checking his phone for any messages from his parents. His inbox is as empty as it was the last couple times he checked. Nationals is coming up, he'd reminded all of them, and nothing. He isn't mad, he gets it. But it would be nice to just...have them here. To see them. 

  
Lio sighs heavier at his own silly feelings this time and just manages not to nibble on a thumb. “It’s not just going to fall down, you know.”

  
A gasp. A scramble. A huge body jolting into the vending machine.

  
“Uh, what?”

  
Lio chuckles a little and turns his whole self around; it's the guy, his one-man audience, staring back with a dumbfounded expression like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar before dinner. “You’re either waiting for a snack to miraculously fall down unprompted or you’ve spent the last four minutes watching me like a creep.”

  
The guy chokes, caught off. He punches in a button and two snack bars tumble down so he grabs them. “Look, see? Not a creep!” He walks over. "I’m Galo Thymos, the new medic! Me and my burning soul will take care of all your cuts, scrapes and sprains! Nice to meet ya!” His name rarely comes without the proud thumb jab to his chest where his heart is fuelled and fired up at all times, he doesn’t think to reign it in for a first impression and can only be conscious of it later.

  
"Hi, Galo. I'm Lio Fotia."

  
"Nice to meet ya, Lio!" Galo holds out one of the bars; Lio shakes his head so Galo shrugs and tears one open, biting into it. “You were amazing out there. Like, whoa!" He pulls hands from his head in a mind-blown fashion, audibly mimicking an explosion. "It was awesome!"

  
“Yeah?”

  
“For sure!”

  
Lio's used to the compliments. About his skating, his looks. It's gotten a little irksome as of late though, knowing how it usually leads into him being pushed into competing. “Do you skate?”

  
Galo thinks about it. Just the bare minimum, mostly. He's required to know how to stand on the ice at the very least if he wants to reach and treat injuries quickly enough and stop himself from getting one. But the twirly, fancy stuff he sees the skaters do here? To put it simply, his interest in becoming a figure skater rose ended not long after it started, not long after he was filled with a melancholy that no performance could get rid of.

  
“No.”

  
“Right. Then how do you know I’m as good as you say?”

  
“I saw you." Galo answers, an intensity in his eyes that brings a flush to Lio's complexion. "My gut can tell you're special too. To be totally honest, you lit a fire in me with your skating, Lio Fotia.” He turns and walks away, leaving the skater gaping at his directness. "See ya around."  
  


Lio gapes. Who just says shit like that?

  
"Oh," Galo spins on a heel, winking, "Hopefully not 'cause you sprained a pretty wrist or somethin'."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've been watching him lots."
> 
> "Everyone here is amazing but...I dunno. I saw Lio first and just..." Galo raises his shoulders in a slight shrug. He's enamoured, it's not a secret he ever intended to pretend was anything less.
> 
> Thyma can see he's practically smitten. "You know, he almost never falls."
> 
> "Of course."
> 
> Thyma can also see how he deflates a bit, that smile of his and those steady shoulders dropping. She knows she has to do this now. "But sometimes..." She has Galo's eyes on her now, observing the way she cups hands around her mouth and hollers across the quietness of the rink. "OH, LIO!~"
> 
> (Or Thyma uses a mild injury as a way to get Lio and Galo to talk again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Everything was done_ when this was just a oneshot but making it into a chaptered fic instead has given me the chance to add more, so now it's a working progress. I plan to keep it under five chapters though.

Galo couldn't be kept off the ice, once upon a time; a time much brighter and more promising than where it actually lead to.

  
He was preparing a routine not too long ago for his short programme at sectionals in Japan. He wasn't naturally talented by any means, often falling on his ass and messing up his turns halfway through, the commitment lost by a moment of doubt he could pull it off. 

  
But he enjoyed it nonetheless.

  
The ice was merciless when he made a mistake, striking through to core and leaving an ache that lasted for months, but it was rewarding when he got it right, allowing him to soar across like a rising hero.

  
There's a routine he keeps in mind and plays out whenever be sees an ice rink; an incomplete performance that, fleshed out, would've been his iconic transition from his usual fun style into a slow cinematic showcase. His usual flair and energy exchanged to an emotional, gentle routine. Gliding along blinding white, funky jives and fun hip thrusts exchanged for long swirls in place and smooth footwork. He wanted to show everyone he wasn't just a city boy with a fresh love for the ice; he and his burning soul were hoping to inspire others to _always get back up when you fall!_

  
However the relationship between him and ice may be, ice skating is still a beautiful sport; all the more with Lio Fotia showcasing it through his own breathtaking performances.

  
Galo told Lio that he doesn't skate and he meant it but as he watches people go round the rink, practising lifts and expert moves, his leg jitters with an impatience.

  
"Thyma Glados."

  
Someone stands in front of him as a blur, blocking his view of the ice rink and obscuring the melancholic trip he was unintentionally settting himself on.

  
Galo blinks to refocus.

  
A young woman with big, brown curls so soft looking, pulled back into a high ponytail and tied with a ribbon. The arena ceiling lights bestow an enchanting highlight to her tan complexion and friendly smile.

  
Her outfit is an ideal fairytale gown, long-sleeved and the shade of cotton candy wth glitter and small rhinestones pressed long the cuffs and short, wavy hem. Completing the outfit is a pair of tan tights and white skate boots laced in pink.

  
Ah, yeah, he remembers her now. She caught Galo's eye as well with her whimsical style as she paraded around the rink to a story of a girl surrounded by hope, good graces and forest animals; a blessed princess dancing on the ice to an original story and bright orchestra crescendo. She'd done a beautiful Beillmann spin as well, body rapidly rotating in place while her leg stayed upright and arched behind.

  
Thyma leans a bit closer with an extended hand. She keeps her smile sweet, patient with his bewitchment. "You're the new med. Thymos, right?"

  
"Sorry, yeah!" Galo shakes himself out of his head, takes her hand and returns the smile with a toothy grin. "Galo Thymos, number one medic at your service!"

  
"This the part when one of us says this arena isn't big enough for us both?"

  
"Um...?"

"Because you're _Thy_ mos and I'm _Thy_ ma." She gives him a moment to get it but much waves the matter away just as quickly, "Never mind," and sits next to him on the bench. She pulls a leg up, lays it out across the space available nearby. "Mind taking a look at this _huge_ blister I got, please?" Neither of them can see but she's wriggling the toes of her relevant foot around.

  
"You came to the right guy! Hang on a sec!"

  
Galo leans over to rummage through his first aid essentials; it's a large, cross body bag with smaller compartments and another bag inside. In that is an organised collection of bandaids: plain, waterproof, hypoallergenic, all with miscellaneous deigns and bright colours.  
  
  
"Whoa." Thyma marvels, her eyes sparkling at the fun choices. "I like a guy who comes prepared. Ooh, hook me up with that hello kitty one, please!"

  
"Of course, M'lady." The dramatic bow of his head has her giggling. Gesturing to her boot, he asks, "May I?"

  
She nods, "You may, Good Sir."

  
Galo pulls off her boot; he can see the blister by her ankle underneath the tights but they aren't the kind that can be rolled up.

  
"It's fine, I have loads more pairs at home."

 _  
'Of course she does'_. Skaters likely have to expect the several odd tears in clothing and scuffed materials. He grabs a small pair of scissors to cut the area over the blister; a small incision that opens enough of a gap for him to press the pink Hello Kitty bandaid over it without any more fuss with her tights.

  
"That's adorable." Thyma turns her foot for a better look at it, Hello Kitty's mouthless face bringing a smile to hers, "Thanks, Galo!"

  
"No problem, Thyma! Happy to help!" Galo smiles and salutes. He blinks, "Oh, not that I'm glad you got hurt! 'Course not!" His excitement comes from being able to help. Medicine and doctoring and all that are hard fields to get into with how heart-wrenching it can be sometimes; with his current feelings for ice so jumbled as they care.

  
But making a difference is worth it.

  
Thyma gets it. Galo's role is dependant on the low success rates of skaters landing their turns and nailing those demanding jumps but at the same time he'll never wish for it. As lost in his own head as was noticed to be, he still looked happy just to be present. Just to watch. She pats his hand in sympathy and assurance, "Skaters get hurt with or without you. It's part of the sport and how you know they're dedicated."

  
Because someone who's just passing by and trying out for fun doesn't become covered in so many scrapes and bruises and they get to leave with their mentality unweighed by pressure to be perfect. To be _gold medalist_ material.

  
Galo himself hasn't been dealt too many blows from falls or misjudged timings. He nearly cracked his skull open once but was lucky enough to twist before impact, just coming out of the hospital with a concussion and a sprain. That never warded him away from the sport; no, it only fuelled him to face the challenge and keep trying.

  
He wonders how it must be for Lio Fotia who is already on the cusp of perfection. Out there on the ice like he belongs, he's still so _magnetic_. It's hard to imagine that he doesn't nail every one of his landings, every one of his spins, his on beat _quadruple axels_ turns and toe steps like he and the ice were in sync from the moment he first touched down on it.

  
"You've been watching him lots."

  
"Everyone here is amazing but...I dunno. I saw Lio first and just..." Galo raises his shoulders in a slight shrug. He's enamoured, it's not a secret he ever intended to pretend was anything less.

  
Thyma can see he's practically smitten. "You know, he almost never falls."

  
"Of course."

  
Thyma can also see how he _deflates_ a bit, that smile of his and those steady shoulders dropping. She knows she has to do this now. "But sometimes..." She has Galo's eyes on her now, observing the way she cups hands around her mouth and hollers across the quietness of the rink. "OH, LIO!~"

  
Lio glides to an echoing halt within the circle of skaters and looks over from the rink.

  
Galo gapes. It's cute, really, the way he sort of guffaws in surprise like he's unprepared for a first date and forgotten flowers. _Pft_ , which is silly because he seems like the type who'd bring a huge bouquet for his date and their parents.

  
Lio skates over to the the threshold between the ice and the two of them on the benches, "Everything okay, Thyma?"

  
"Show Galo your hands."

  
" _What_?"

  
"Show the pretty ice doctor your not so pretty blisters." Thyma reaches forward to grab his closest hand and pulls.

  
Lio sputters and stumbles over the ramp in his blades; he just misses landing right in to Galo's lap, instead automatically reaching for his arms for stability before he can reconsider how imposing it is. Galo's big hands help steady him by his waist and for a moment, they're both swept up in the silent moment just for two.

  
"Sorry!" Thyma smiles.

  
"Tell your _face_ that." Lio replies because she doesn't look the slightest bit apologetic over risking his life for some thrill of entangling him with the new ice medic. She's as bad as Meis at this point who, since last week, has been _suggesting things_ nonstop. "Galo, I'm sorry."

  
"Never mind that!" Galo's much more interested in the redness across Lio's hands; touching the ice will numb the sink and flourish a deep shade of warmth but to this degree, to have blisters across every pad, he must've touched the ice too many times and for far too long! "Lio, oh my God!"

  
“It’s fine.” Lio tries pulling his hands away but Galo's gentle hold is also quite firm. Plus, as it was already obvious, he's the stubborn type. Lio sighs, "I touch the ice a lot in one of my new routines I'm working on _—_ _stop_." He sighs again at Galo reaching for his bag of bandaids. Lio wasn't even aware that someone in the world was in demand for plasters beyond their basic use. "Listen to me, I don't need _—_ "

  
"I heard ya." Galo says, "But this is my job! I can't just leave you like this, it could get worse!"

  
"I can deal with it, honestly."

  
"But you shouldn't have to!" Galo does this unexpected pout with his lips like a child asking for more than one flavour of ice cream, or a dog being scolded. It's a low-key weakness of Lio's so he turns away with warmer cheeks but the image is already etched in his memory. "Now, which one you want?"

  
"It doesn't matter."

  
"I got Hello Kitty, Power Rangers, Spongebob, ones with popsicles on 'em, Pokemon, Disney _—_ "

  
Thyma points into the bag, "Ooh, give him the Sailor Moon Luna ones! He loves cats."

  
"Traitor." Lio sighs for a third time and settles down where Thyma once sat, sending her back off onto the ice with an ungrateful, hard stare that means he'll be talking with her about her behaviour later. Something cold and wet swipes across his fingers and he jolts, "Shit!"

  
"Ah, yeah, sorry, meant to warn you." Galo smiles meekly, an antiseptic wipe in hand and faintly smudged with dry blood. "It'll sting but I'll be quick! Promise!"

  
"At least I haven't sprained my pretty wrist."

  
Galo stares, lost.

  
"When we first spoke last week, you said you hoped we wouldn't meet again under such circumstances."

  
"Ohhh, right! Yeah!" Galo slaps his forehead and laughs, "Good thing, yeah, totally!" He makes sure to clean the rest of the fingertips even gentler than he already was, Lio silent the whole time. Galo pockets the wipe when he's done and inspects the hands, "Good news, looks like they don't need to be severed off, so you get to skate with 'em another day, Lio!"  
  


“Or for as long as Foreshit gives me. He’s basically throwing me out.”  
  


“ _Kray_? You sure?" Galo asks, glancing between him and the Sailor Moon Luna bandaid he's peeling off. "That doesn’t sound like him.”  
  


“Because you know him so well.”  
  


“Well, yeah. He's why I got into skating actually." Galo's sure he doesn't need to elaborate but while he wraps the first few bandaids around the sore fingers, he happily summarises one of the greatest performances in ice skating history.  
  


Back in the day, Kray Foresight and Biar Colossus shook the skating world with their tricky, unprecedented circus-like routine, constantly in sync and never off beat to the fast paced composition that left the audience between clapping and being on the edge of their seats. It was shortly after their gold medal win that they retired and Kray decided to open up his own arena so that others could fulfil their dreams and potential.  
  


So that Galo had somewhere to be as well. He wasn't asked but feels it's integral to add, "And he's looked out for me since the incident."

  
"What incident?"

  
“Oh. Just. I fell through a frozen lake behind this arena. He felt responsible so he gave me a scholarship and a recommendation to the third Promepolis medical care department.  
  


“So hush money to protect his precious legacy.”  
  


“Trust me, he’s not that bad.”  
  


"Except he's told me to fuck off and find somewhere else to skate."  
  


"What?! How come?”  
  
  
"He wants me to compete for Nationals but I'm not interested."

  
"So he's bargaining."  
  
  
"It's _blackmail_!"  
  
  
"Why not compete, though?"  
  


“Because I..." Lio's parents flash in his mind, their busy schedules leaving their reserved seats vacant too often for him to tolerate any longer. "I just don't. Not anymore."  
  


"Okay but you really should, Lio! Your jumps are consistent and your lutzs are so clean, it's like _—_ "  
  


“Hang on, I thought you don’t skate?”  
  


"I..." Galo falters this time. "I don’t. Not anymore.”  
  


“Can I ask why?”  
  


Galo forces out a laugh, "You just did."  
  


"Sorry, ignore me." Lio turns away from him and stares out at the rink, completely unaware that ignoring him is near impossible when he's so magnetic.  
  


Luckily for him, Galo Thymos is an open book. "I was out on the frozen lake behind the arena because my parents took me. A part of it wasn't completely solid and I fell through. Nearly died." he wraps around the last couple bandaids and focuses on that so he doesn't have to see whatever pitiful expression Lio wears for him, "My parents dove in and got me out but they didn't make it. Kray felt partly responsible so that's why he helped me out."

  
“I...that’s awful. I'm sorry that happened to you, Galo.”  
  


Galo shakes his head, "Nah, thanks but I don’t blame myself or anything." _Not anymore_. "I don't skate anymore because of it and that's a shitty reason not to but...that day always comes back to me. Besides, I like helping people like this too."  
  


“You wish they were here to see you skate.” It’s nothing remotely similar but Lio feels they’re kindred in this regard, that their parents mean so much to them that they want them to be a part of what they love.  
  


Galo nods. “Yeah."  
  


“If it's any consolation, I think it would be nice if you could skate again. I do hope you're able to. It's such a beautiful sport."

  
"I wasn't half bad at it either, you know!" Galo boasts with a proud grin. “I scored high on my short programme. Got the crowd going with my hip hop and eighties' nostalgia routine!"  
  


Lio chuckles, “I can see you doing that."  
  
  
"Okay, last one! Aaaand...done!" Galo smoothes out the crease of the last baindaid he applies, then leans back to marvel at his handiwork. "Yep, you're all set, Lio!"  
  


Lio feels silly with his hands covered in several Sailor Moon Luna bandaids, like he's a fanatic or a toddler, but it could be worse.  
  


“Oh, and the magic healing touch!”  
  


“The what _—_ ” He's momentarily surprised into stillness as Galo boldly dips his head to press a kiss over the covered pad of his finger. Another to the next one, and the next one, and _—_ “I-Idiot!” Lio snaps and can't pull his hands back quickly enough. “T-There’s no such thing as a healing touch!”  
  


“Course there is! Just wait and see, Lio! My care is one hundred percent satisfaction guaranteed!”

  
Thyma is suddenly rejoining them, grinning shamelessly over the rink wall, "I’m sure Lio's pretty satisfied alright.”

  
"Right, you have some explaining to do."

  
"I think the words you're looking for are 'thank you'."

  
"They're not as appropriate as that so I'll save them until we're away from impressionable children."

  
Galo gapes and points to himself, "Hey, I'm not a kid!"  
  


"No, Galo, the _actual kids_ skating around."

  
Galo leans out, sees the odd child or two circling the rink like a professional. "...Oh. Gotcha. Carry on."

  
"Thanks for this," Lio gestures to his fingers as he gets back on to the ice. He grabs Thyma's hand, "If you'll excuse me, I need to have a word with this one."

  
"Sure but don't be too hard on her. She's a princess after all."

  
"The proper punishment for treason against a friend will be carried out, rest assured."

  
Thyma squeaks, a bit fearful, being pulled away from Galo and further on to the rink. "Hey, come on, you know I did you a favour!" He releases her and she regains her balance and rhythm, keeping up beside him, "He's obviously distracting you and you were gonna fall on your ass before you talked to him again."  
  
  
"I'm not going to bother the new medic while he's on the job."

  
"Look around, Lio, _we're all pro_ 's here. We've fallen a hundred times and gotten up a hundred times. He's mostly here for beginners."

  
"But he's always here during our practices."

  
"To see _you_! God, you can be denser than ice or a metal pipe sometimes."

  
"Okay, _Tonya Harding_." 

"You can't go to nationals with blisters."

  
"Thyma, don't."

  
"No, _you_ don't. You _know_ you're good. Better than good. Even Kray admits it despite how you call him Foreshit."

  
"I don't care what he thinks."

  
"I'm sure Galo would say the same thing, too."  
  
  
“Amazing. You almost went two whole minutes without bringing him up.”

  
“Ooh, new record!"

  
Lio sighs out into a slow glide to the other side of the rink wall; he leans back against it, the view of the entire rink so much wider in this perspective. Galo a lot clearer from the benches. He sighs for what he vows to himself will be the last time today and hopes Thyma doesn't pull a stunt like this again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Kray/Biar as pair skaters [e.g.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ydN5Glf9KI0) and [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N0-eoInIrX8) gives me skater galo energy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm saying, Lio, that you can shine as much as you want to! You
> 
> "But—"
> 
> "I'm not going anywhere you don't want me to!"
> 
> "You can't make a promise like that!"
> 
> "Sure I can! I'm Galo Thymos, the world's best ice skating medic! I'll take responsibility so long as you do too!"
> 
> "For what?!"
> 
> Galo secures his hold on Lio's hand all the more, his fingers entwining with Sailor Moon covered ones. "For lighting a fire in me with your skating."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was taking too long and I even considered giving up but I fought hard and even though this last chapter hasn't turned out 100% the way I wanted it to, I still finished it and for that I'm so glad!

"So, Sectionals."

  
Lio's in the middle of stretching when that comes out of nowhere and he splutters, undoing his legacy of never messing up by slipping and having to latch onto the sidewall of the arena. 

  
Meis' lips turn inward but hardly hide his smile.

  
" _Thanks_ , I nearly put my back out."

  
"Nearly. Come on, all this practice can't still just be for _fun_."

  
"Can't it?"

  
For Lio the sport of skating has never been about raking in countless of glorious trophies or having his face plastered across billboards and magazines as a rising prodigy. One day he found out he could do it and fell in love hard and fast. Through learning and developing his style, he and the ice have become one with each other as if an entire collective of souls lies imbedded in the frozen water.

  
Together they create a wavelength of synchronisation in an enclosed space like fated companions.

  
It's above and beyond the materialistic rewards, even if having an entire shelf of awards doesn't hurt his ego a little. The several competitions he has participated in were only experimental; to see how it felt for his chosen art of expression to be laid bare for eyes to see and criticised. There's a thrill to it most can only dream of discovering in their lifetime and it's too meaningful to not be incredibly emotional over.

  
Lio's built himself up too strong to just fall when the arena seems a little darker.

  
"You're the most competitive person I know." Meis says. "I'd sort of get it if you were doing this to give newcomers a chance."

  
"I don't go easy on people."

  
"No but you also don't back out."

  
"I was never in it to back out of."

  
"You must've slipped and hit your head when I wasn't around."

  
"Yeah!" Gueira's voice is always the loudest in the arena, the guy generally a buzz of energy that there's never enough time to blow off.

  
He's on his way over to them after his warm up lap around the arena, weaving between juniors who gawk at how well he controls his speed so close to the surrounding board. Proceeding Lio, he's the arena's fastest skater.

  
Whenever asked, he says it's from time spent hauling ass running from people trying to stop a good time. That's his way of summarising how his frequent graffitiing tended to get him chased by Cops. From there, it was either get sent to juvie or do something else just as creative but legal and that wouldn't harm the community. He picked ice skating over hockey in fear of his 'beautiful face' being ruined.

  
Meis got into the sport similarly except it was from trespassing to protest against things he didn't believe in that were simultaneously harming the community. He and Gueira both spoke the language of 'fuck the police' and meshed well and have been together ever since, hyping each other's passions up and filling in voids they hadn't noticed before.

  
As for Lio, he not so gracefully slipped on a patch of ice on his way to school once and, instead of crying, swore to overcome and master it. Several years later, he can hardly keep off the ice and Meis and Gueira gravitated towards his tenacity and just adopted him.

  
"We've half a mind to kick your ass!" Gueira says, "Remember when we met? You told us to fuck off. Said the ice was yours 'cause you were going to the Olympics!"

  
Lio groans, "Please don't bring that up, I sounded like an arrogant twat."

  
"You were," Meis says, "But you could go to the Olympics. That's what we're getting at."

  
Them and just about anyone else Lio so much as breathes near.

  
Kray Foresight included, as much of a bitter taste he is to think about. He's the most enthused about all of this, not above resorting to blackmail as a means of getting exactly what he wants. Lio hasn't for a second forgotten and has scouted out a couple other arenas but they're not the same.

  
"You didn't give a shit back then." Gueira adds to their point, "And you didn't eat boiled chicken!"

  
Meis asks, "What changed?"

  
"It tastes so much better fried!"

  
"Gueira, honey, focus."

  
"I'm just saying! Anyway, _boiled chicken eater_ , you gonna tell us why you're flaking out then?"

  
Lio would rather not get into it but he knows they're relentless. "You guys skate together so it's different."

  
It's their advantage as much as it is their handicap in his eyes.

  
Being partners in a sport has its ups and downs, it's rewards and harsh paybacks for perhaps being too emotionally involved. A give and take kind of deal that can only thrive where there is one hundred percent trust and dedication. Words aren't necessary for Gueira and Meis to communicate in most of their routines; their choreography is ingrained in their synchronisation, their jumps and landings never off beat with each other.

  
Out on the arena, they blend into one.

  
They have each other—always will, win or lose. 

  
For Lio, though, when the ice has been carved for all its worth and his heart is pounding with the force of a hundred marchers at the end of his routine, his body weighty and aching, it's just himself.

  
"You wouldn't understand." Lio knows that's unfair of him to say but he can't take it back while the feeling sticks. He leaves them to skate over to the centre of the area, enclosed around a gate of other skaters.

  
He breathes in, out, then goes into his starting position for his most recent choreography. He counts to four over the classical piece coming through his wireless earphones, eyes closing so he can be enveloped completely.

  
On the pluck of a high string, he reopens his eyes and turns his body halfway around to the right, then to the left, in a full circle before he spirals out and gets going around the arena's border.

  
The four minute long program routine he's created never feels that long. He doesn't rush and yet the world blurs and his steps come one after the other. 

  
The orchestra ascends and he leaps in place to it, landing on a particularly hard bang of a drum and spinning on a single foot with his arms reaching outward like flower petals opening out. The turns are his forte and his body becomes like a perfect spindle in time with the melody. The whimsical song painting a forrest turns daunting with the settled interval turning hurried and chaotic and his movements keep up.

  
The quicker he turns, the hazier his view but clearer his mind.

  
He doesn't have to see the people who aren't here.

  
Coming up to his final turn, he arches back and pulls one leg up adjacent to the ice; he gracefully keeps the demanding stretch while the track holds its long note before the song ends and he finishes with one arm upward and a hand over his chest. At a standstill, he's breathless and the arena is gradually recognisable again. Were this an official performance, this is when the crowd would applaud and call his name.

  
Banners would be held high.

  
Reserved seats would...probably remain vacant.

  
Loud, unrestrained clapping from heavy hands eclipse the quietness of the arena. Appraisal as big and bold as the person coming towards him with chunky, blue rental skates following the code of conduct that forbids outdoor shoes.

  
It was like this when they met the first time, one of them spellbound as they watched from the benches and the other being all 'magnetic and amazing'. 

  
"Stalker."

  
"I don't think stalkers show themselves and invite who they're stalking out?"

  
"Oh, you're inviting me out, are you?"

  
"I'm trying but you're not making this easy." Galo chuckles. Standing this close, the arena lights giving the admirable skater an even more prominent glow, he thinks he could bottle it. "So, you wanna maybe grab some food? With me. I know this great pizza place—"

  
"Can't do carbs."

  
"Right! Sorry! Coffee?"

  
"Gives me headaches."

  
"Oh." Galo's excitement drops. "'Kay, I get it. No worries."

  
"I like Bubble Tea. There's a place up the street."

  
Like a bulb brimming back to life, Galo's grin makes a glorious reappearance.

∆ ∆ ∆  
  


When Thyma Glados isn't the princess carving up pretty lines on the ice and winning many hearts, she's mixing up drinks in the best Bubble Tea Haus. Delivering sweet combinations of tapioca pears and milky tea part time pays well enough to keep her skating dream afloat and the employee discounts don't hurt at all.

  
A secondary perk is how she gets to pester Lio from over the counter and threaten to withhold his drink order until he quits being so in denial about, well, everything. She keeps her hand firmly around the Matcha Milk Tea while the owner of the name scrawled across fights to pull it into his possession, "You're just making a mess."

  
"So let go!" 

  
"You still haven't thanked me!"

  
"I gave you money!"

  
"Not about tea!" Thyma releases the cup, to Lio's relief, and throws a hand out to a table in the back of the Haus where Galo has chosen to nab for them. "I push you into his arms and a couple weeks later, tadah, you guys are on a _date_!"

  
"Hardly."

  
"Two people sitting all cozy with bubble tea! What's that called?!"

  
"Being nosy."

  
Thyma throws up her hands, groaning. The customer nearby who was about to order casually saunters away, figuring they better come back later. "I can't believe you, turning down golden opportunities every second! First sectionals, now the hot ice-doctor! After he gave you first aid, too!"

  
"He slapped bandaids on, I could've done it myself!"

  
"And don't think I didn't see him give you his _healing, magic touch_." Thyma winks.

  
Lio, next to his icy drink, can't even begin to hide the warmer hue in his face now, "Can we not talk about that, please?"

  
"Fine." Thyma shrugs and leans into a palm, an unapologetic, all-knowing smile settling. "We can talk about sectionals instead."

  
"Right, I want to speak to the manager about your customer service."

  
"I honestly don't get why you won't compete."

  
"Because I don't have to." That's always been his prerogative to live by, to do as he pleases how and when he chooses. Let no one's opinion leave an impactful reflection on his objectives. "Do I have to compete to enjoy something?"

  
"People say not to mix business with pleasure but in a _sport_? It's kind of inevitable."

  
"So is the loneliness when you're at the top." Lio offers and takes a sip of his tea before he can elaborate.

  
He doesn't need to, though.

  
Whether Thyma herself ever properly envisions where her princess performance can eventually land her, the places she'll fly to and new pressures that'll pile on, she can sympathise. It can often be the way of a sport, to be isolated or at least expect to sacrifice plenty of dear things and people. 

  
Being a good skater is one thing. Being next level, a prodigy that Lio has been called time and time again, opens a lot of doors and a majority of them aren't accessible to those he could want to bring along. 

  
Talented. Inspiring. Admirable. Naturally gifted. A star. People who get called those usually end up embodying the actual thing and reside above everyone else at an unreachable, blindly bright height.

  
"So I hear." Thyma says, "That's why so many people are waiting at the bottom when you're ready to come down." 

  
Lio snorts lightly, shaking his head head, and leaves the counter with his drink orders to join Galo at the table in the back by the window.

  
It's a long panel with painted baked goods and floral decorations around the shop's name; with a free view of people in passing and however the weather feels it should be on any given day, it's no wonder why he gravitated to this table practically as soon as they walked in and the bell above the door rang. The seclusion of the booth's location isn't bad either, Lio often taking it for himself to wind down and relax before he dives into planning his next routine.

  
Galo picks up his order. This is his first time even hearing about Bubble Tea and he was completely in the dark about the available flavours and mixes, so he let Lio pick one out for him and he was obviously up for teasing. It's a soft mix of blue bleeding into purple with dark balls lying in the bottom and a spread of cream at the top with a thick straw poking out through it all.

  
"Blueberry." Lio explains.

  
"Cool! Thanks!" Galo takes his first sip the way he goes into a lot of things the first time around: all in with no hesitation. Luckily, it's a taste he can vibe with. Fruity and sweet but not sour at all. He gives a thumbs up to Lio who nods and enjoys his own drink without concern. "You know, I didn't know Thyma works here."

  
Lio hums agreeably around the straw then pulls off, "Yeah, it's a wonder how she's lasted this long with the unsolicited advice she keeps giving out." To the raise of a brow he should've seen coming, he shakes his head.

  
"Hey, what made you say yes to my offer?"

  
"I like bubble tea and I don't dislike you."  
  


"That's it?!"

  
"That's it."

  
"Huh." Galo sips on his tea for a little, "Okay. How'd you get into skating?"

  
It's not like _breathing_ , if that's what Galo's predicting he'll hear, yet it's also not unlike that.

  
Out on the ice, it's quiet. Everything just makes sense and falls into place on the ice. The steps to a routine, the counts in a song, the techniques to pull off to wow the audience and score well with judges. Plus, he's good—better than he would've imagined he'd turn out to be when he was young and standing on blades for the very first time.

  
To stop now, he supposes, would feel like having something pulled right from him because he and the ice have been together for so long now.

  
He wouldn't really know what else to do.

  
"Just tried it out one day and I was a natural at it."

  
"Your parents support you?"

  
"As much as they can from England."

  
Mr and Mrs Fotia's lives as busy business workers inevitably left them little time to dedicate to their son and his exceptional skating as time went on and he kept succeeding. The better he got, the more intense the lessons became, the more routines he performed and won medals and trophies with until in the end, it came down to the option of relocating.

  
They couldn't and Lio didn't want them to blame themselves or feel like he believed they would ever try to hold him back.

  
They stayed and he left but the first performance without them was enough for him to know he didn't like it so much, skating for a crowd and not a single person being a familiar face that was part of his ascension.

  
It never felt right or fair.

  
Lio relays that to Galo as best as he can.

  
"But they can see you on TV any time when you get famous!" is Galo's instant response.

  
"It's not just my parents. Meis, Gueira, Thyma, I'd have to sacrifice being with them to focus on being the best skater I can." Lio swirls the matcha milk tea around in the cup, watching the frothy milk seep into the majority of green with a bitter expression. "I wouldn't even be able to eat my feelings away in carbs." He tortures himself by turning to gaze at the confectionary on display in the counter glass cases, buns and biscuits beckoning him.

  
Galo smiles cheekily, "Say you'll do sectionals and I'll treat ya!"

  
Lio groans, "Not you too. Is this the reason you invited me out?"

  
"A little? I really did want to hang out with you, Lio! Your skating took my breath away and it's a crime to not show it to other people too!"

  
"Galo, listen," He's sweet, for starters. Very. Almost makes the matcha milk in his hand tasteless in comparison but, "Even if I wanted to, it's last minute. I'd need a training regime with meal plans. A coach." He shudders at the nightmare idea that is Kray Foresight getting exactly what he wants and being in charge of his life as a skater, deciding what's tolerable and what needs to kick the bucket. "And you don't know who I'm up against."

  
"So?"

  
"There are skaters who live and breathe _nothing but_ training, Galo! Skaters whose _entire lives_ are about competing!"

  
Galo can't argue with that. Still, he isn't deterred, leaning closer with an unbeatable fire in his eyes that no normal douse can put out. "But I've seen _you_ , Lio Fotia!"

  
Lio's body delivers a second round of shudders for an entirely new reason. 

  
"Believe me, I know what I'm talking about! I bet you could handle the town's hottest pizza ever so I know you could handle whatever skater comes your way!"

  
"Sorry, Galo, still no on the pizza. For skaters, it's boiled meat, steamed veggies, fruit, oatmeal—" Lio can't help the chuckle that tips out when Galo recoils in horror. "It's nutritious."

  
"It's all _goopy_!"

  
"Don't call my breakfast goopy!" Lio lightly kicks Galo's foot with his own, " _You're_ goopy."

  
"Goopy could mean handsome in another language. Probably. Somewhere."  
  
  
“That's a little dramatic."

  
"Speaking of dramatic, how come your music's always like that?"

  
Lio shrugs, "Storytelling. A lot of skaters use classical tracks."

  
"I know but it's so old-school! How about changing it up to get the crowd going?!"

  
"Like...?"

  
"I dunno! This?" Galo pulls out his phone with a pair of wired earphones and brings up the Spotify app to a new album release. He offers an earbud to Lio, waits for him to place it by an ear and plays the first song listed which immediately has a catchy yet sultry vibe. A song heads can bop to and hips can hypnotise in time with. "Hot, right? Or this!"

  
The song changes over to a more upbeat pop track from a different album altogether, playing a continuous light beat under a the lyrical, carefree confession about first, innocent love. A cutesy bop, in other words.

  
Lio nods along to it a little, "It's certainly different."

  
Too different. The first track alone sent Galo imagining hip swirls and alluring rolls and hanging on to every step of Lio Fotia's performance. He was enticed before but that kind of change up would do wonders too. "You could dance to either one of these and I'm telling ya, it'd be like a mating call! No one would look away!"

  
Lio chokes on his drink, "What?!"

  
"Mating call is when—"

  
"I know what it is!"

  
"Okay, well you know how people do donuts on motorbikes?" Galo's words aren't doing much to diminish the blatant look of appall on Lio's face; he waves his hands around frantically, "Sorry! It's what came to me when I thought about how flexible you probably are!"

  
"I have to be." Lio retakes his sip for a much longer time than he would've, letting the silence between them fill up and Galo look all the more worried he'd completely wrecked everything. "Otherwise," the matcha milk is set down again, "How can I properly do the mating call?"

  
" _Jesus Christ_." Galo's a fluster of red and surprise, mumbling into the sleeves of his hoodie in a poor attempt to disappear.

The only thing that pulls him up out of it, that wipes clear from mind everything else his senses can pick upon, is the sound of laughter. Hesitant then loose, light then heavier and badly muffled. 

  
Lio's eyes crease. He raises a hand as if to apologise in place of being unable to form a word, to even breathe.

  
"I want you to laugh like that more."

  
Lio calms and clears his throat, "We can't always get what we want."

  
"You could if you went for it." Galo knows he's treading tender territory again without the heavy sigh across the table it gains but he can see how much skating means to Lio.

How much lighter it makes him. How it makes people like the two of them come together like this. How it makes him passionate for Lio's sake.

"You want this more than you'll admit. You eat carefully, you practice over and over—"

  
"What of it?" 

  
"You wouldn't do that stuff if you were only in this for _fun_!"

  
"Look, I'm not up for losing anyone else." 

  
"You won't!" Galo says a little louder than intended but wholeheartedly. He takes Lio's hands across the table into his, minding their drinks, not minding Lio's flustering around, trying to get him to stop. "Real friends like Gueira, Meis, Thyma and me? And your parents? We won't fade into the night just because the sun rises!"

  
"Huh?!" 

  
"I'm saying, Lio, that you can shine as much as you want to! You

  
"But—"

  
"I'm not going anywhere you don't want me to!"

  
"You can't make a promise like that!"

  
"Sure I can! I'm Galo Thymos, the world's best ice skating medic! I'll take responsibility so long as you do too!"

  
"For what?!"

  
Galo secures his hold on Lio's hand all the more, his fingers entwining with Sailor Moon covered ones. "For lighting a fire in me with your skating."

  
Lio blushes, "No one told you to watch me!"

  
As if Galo could've looked away, though. From the second he saw Lio skate, he was caught.

  
"You won't let this go, will you?"

  
"What? Your hand or—"

  
"Both."

  
Galo squeezes his hand in promise, "Nope! And I never met your parents but I'm sure they'd be pushing you to do this as well."

  
It was expensive but they were always cheering him on from the beginning. The times one couldn't make a performance, the other filmed and retold the story with such joy and pride.

  
They would want him to, wouldn't they?

  
His friends, too.

  
Galo's right.

  
Lio stands and tugs on Galo's hand, "Come on."

  
Galo scrambles up to follow, "Where to?"

  
"The arena." Lio lets out a heavy sigh with the last of his doubts. "Kray will be doing paperwork in his lunch break."

Galo grins, "You mean...?"

"If I'm to take responsibility for you, then you're obligated to do the same for me. For convincing me that the top doesn't have to be lonely."

Galo nods, "Let's do it!"

∆ ∆ ∆

Kray Foresight doesn't rattle so easily but that's always being tested against his most challenging skater. The door to his office slams open with a force that knocks it against the wall mercilessly.  
  


Lio marches in, "Look, Foreshit, you gonna coach me or not?!”  
  
  
Kray doesn't look up. He doesn't stop sorting through piles of paperwork either, neglecting his sandwich neatly placed on a paper napkin on a small plate to the side. "Good afternoon to you too, Lio. I'm doing well, thank you. Why, yes, it is a lovely day."  
  
  
"I'm not here to—"  
  
  
"I don't think I heard a please in there either."  
  
  
Lio keeps his lips shut. It's the best he can do.  
  
  
Kray hums. “Luckily for you, I am quite patient. Despite your attitude, I recognise your natural talent outshines the negatives. With proper, strict training, and if you cooperate, I think you’ll manage.”  
  
  
“I can manage on my own. I have been for the past couple years.”  
  
  
Kray opens his eyes. “I will train you for Sectionals.”  
  
  
“That’s all you had to say, Foreshit.”  
  
  
“Are you really doing this? I need commitment from you as well as cooperation.”  
  
  
“I’m serious.”  
  
  
Kray seems to take the answer for it’s sincerity and offers his hand eventually, "Very well. I expect you on the ice by 4am sharp every morning. That's after you've jogged around the building and done one hundred jumps with the skipping rope. You need to be in top condition before I deal with you."

  
"Deal with this!" Lio flips him off. 

  
" _Clearly_ I have a lot of work ahead of me." Kray mumbles, stepping aside and leaving with a stack of paperwork.

  
Galo's head pokes through into the office first before he jumps out in cheer. "You're in! You're going to sectionals! Lio, Nationals!"

  
"I guess." Lio doesn't want to celebrate too soon even though he feels the same buzz of excitement in his heart. "I still have to qualify--"

  
"You're amazing! Of course they'll take you! And if you need your own personal cheerleader during practices, I'm there! Me and my burning soul'll never let you down, Lio! Count on me!"

  
Since they met, Galo Thymos has been spouting that kind of mantra nonstop about being helpful, about burning with a passion and charging forward. He's always been looking to Lio like he's the answer to a lot of questions he never had until that day. He's never been deterred by anything these past weeks; the ice has remained a part of him even with the unfortunate loss of his family.

  
Even when they sank, he kept himself and his spirits afloat.

  
It's like parents to want that, isn't it?

  
Lio inhales slowly, then all at once fills the office room with the excitement he can't contain any longer. "I'M GOING TO SECTIONALS!"

  
Galo laughs and picks him up. Spins him round and round and watches Lio lean back and spread his arms and they're the picture perfect replica of an iconic pair skating move. “I told you you’re amazing!"

  
Lio, taking one long look at Galo, shakes his head, " _You're_ amazing, Galo. Thank you." He's put down again, "I _could_ do with a skating partner. If your offer's still available, I can squeeze in some practice right now."

  
"You mean..." Galo gapes, points to himself, "Me skating with you?!"

  
"If you can keep up, that is. Today, tomorrow, the day after and so on."

  
Galo doesn't necessarily need to promise him again and certainly not in so many words. Still, he thumps his chest proudly and wears that big, wide grin of his, "Give me everything you've got, Lio Fotia, I can take it!"

  
Lio smiles, "We'll see, Galo Thymos."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Lio comes off as the loner type but while writing this chapter, I was thinking about when he didn't want to leave Gueira and Meis behind and I pretty much stan a Lio who always wants to be with his friends. If you're still here, bless you! ❤

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think to get an example of Lio's skating but last minute searching through YouTube lead me to [Nathan Chen](https://youtu.be/0EgvZi4WBeQ) and he's pretty much ideal.


End file.
